Sick Daze
by Lawrencespen1777
Summary: Juliet becomes ill at a meeting. How does Shawn handle being the caretaker?
1. Bad Shrimp

**Just a little sickfic oneshot. Probably two or three chapters. Enjoy!**

Juliet knew there was something wrong with the shrimp. Thinking back, she should have just politely declined. No big deal. But Chief Vick had invited her to lunch with the Mayor and, as head detective, she didn't want to make a big deal that the Mayor's favorite restaurant may have cooked her lunch incorrectly so...she ate it. And now...she was paying for it.

She felt fine at the restaurant, discussing future plans for the safety of San Francisco with the Chief and the Mayor. She even felt fine on the car ride back to city hall. It wasn't until the party was walking up the steps to the boardroom that she felt a twinge of pain in her stomach.

"Dehydration," she had told herself. "I just haven't had any water today," she reasoned, and carried on.

But when they were thirty minutes into the meeting and her stomach was twisting into painful knots, Juliet began to get concerned.

"They'll call for a break any second," she told herself. "Don't panic. It's just a little indigestion."

At forty-five minutes into the meeting, she began to feel queasy. Queasy quickly turned into nausea and nausea lead to panic. She needed a bathroom and she needed it fast.

"Take a break," she silently willed the Mayor. "Just take a break already."

The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene by walking all the way across the large boardroom to find a bathroom, but the feeling in her throat assured her that she needed to move soon. She swallowed hard, staring unblinkingly at the table as all of her concentration was directed towards not puking on the Mayor. Her stomach lurched and she quickly put a hand over her mouth. Excusing herself as discreetly as possible, she darted into the hallway without looking to see who was watching her.

"Bathroom. Where's the bathroom," was the only thing she could think. Finally, she spotted it.

Half walking, half jogging down the hall, a hand still over her mouth, she flung open the bathroom door and threw herself at the first stall. She had just slammed the door shut again when she began to gag, losing the battle over her stomach into the toilet below.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there on the cold, tile floor, hunched over as her stomach contracted painfully again and again. The next thing she realized was that the bathroom door had opened and someone was calling her name.

"Juliet?"

"In here," she moaned, trying to stand. She unlocked the stall door and shuffled out, mascara running from the exertion of vomiting.

"Are you alright," the Chief asked, staring at the greenish pale detective. "What happened?"

"I know. I'm sorry," Juliet sniffed, staring at the floor. "I didn't mean to cause a scene in there with the Mayor, I just," she trailed off, swallowing hard. "I think I had some bad shrimp," she croaked.

To Juliet's surprise, the Chief put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Don't you worry about the Mayor. No one even noticed that you slipped out. I was only concerned when you didn't come back for so long. And it looks like I had a right to be." The Chief felt Juliet's forehead with her palm. "You feel warm. You need to go home before this gets any worse. Food poisoning can be terrible."

"How could this get any worse," Juliet thought to herself.

The Chief pulled her phone out of her pocket. "I'm calling your husband. Do you want to wait outside for him and get some fresh air or do you think you need to stay in here?"

"Chief," Juliet interjected, "I can drive myself home. I feel a bit better now that I've got it out of my system."

"Oh no no no, trust me. I had food poisoning right after Iris was born," she said, putting the phone to her ear. "You're going to want someone to drive you home. You'll thank me later."

Juliet's stomach started to twist painfully again and she breathed deeply. "Don't puke," she thought over and over, but to no avail. She knew it would happen again soon whether she was ready or not.

The Chief squeezed her arm sympathetically. "I'll be right outside," she said, phone still to her ear.

Juliet was thankful the Chief had stepped out as her stomach cramped angrily once more. She made another dive for the toilet

and, again, as she retched and heaved, she lost track of time until there was another knock on her stall door. It was the Chief again.

"Juliet, he's almost here. Do you think you'll be okay for a few minutes?"

Juliet waited, panting breathlessly into the toilet bowl, to make sure her stomach had really settled before moving. She stood shakily to her feet and opened the stall door slowly, composing herself to face the Chief. They left the bathroom together and started towards the parking lot.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "You should be able to count on your head detective for a meeting this important."

"O'Hara," the Chief smiled as she walked her downstairs and out through the glass doors. "Not feeling well in the middle of a meeting with the mayor is not your fault. And," she said as they reached the edge of the curb, "This isn't the worse thing that's ever happened to one of my head detectives during an important meeting. Remind me one day to tell you a story about Lassiter at city hall."

Juliet smiled, always amused by stories of her partner, but her stomach was beginning to cramp again and she knew she needed to leave quickly.

"So you got ahold of Shawn," she asked.

"Sort of," the Chief said, blocking the sun from her eyes to better look for the car.

"Sort of," Juliet asked suspiciously. "What do you mean sort of?"

"Shawn is still fishing with his father apparently. So I called you the next best thing," she said.

Juliet sighed. She'd forgotten that Shawn had agreed to meet Henry for a fishing trip. "Maybe it's a good thing," she thought. "I can just go home, curl up, and die inside. No distractions...Wait, next best thing," she asked. "Who?"

The Chief was scanning the busy streets for someone. "There he is."

Burton Guster pulled an old driver's ed car up to the curb and rolled down the window. Juliet felt suddenly self-conscious. How many people knew she was sick? He waved at the Chief and she waved back in acknowledgment.

"Do not come back to work until you feel better, O'Hara. Understand," she said directly.

"Yes, Chief," Juliet replied sheepishly. She shot her a small smile of gratitude and walked to Gus's car, sliding into the front seat.

"Gus, I'm...," she started after pulling the door closed, but she trailed off after seeing what he was doing. Gus was driving with his body as far against the door as it would go and his face stuck to the window, which was rolled down just enough for him to breath in and out of. "What are you doing," she asked bluntly.

Gus gave her a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye. "The Chief said you were sick. I'm not trying to catch anything, Juliet."

Juliet rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm not contagious. I just ate some bad shrimp." She leaned forward, putting her head in her hands as her stomach cramped. "And I'm sorry you had to come pick me up like I'm some sort of child."

Gus rolled up the window somewhat grudgingly. "It's not your fault," he conceded. "You're just living up to the Spencer family name." He gave her a tight-lipped smile and she smiled back. "Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I'll get you home quick. Burton Guster, limo service."

"The last thing you and Shawn need is another business," she sighed, still with a small smile playing on her lips. They would be home soon. Gus would drop her off. She would curl up in a blanket and sleep off this entire day. Nothing else stood in the way right?

Wrong.

Juliet rested her head in her hands, breathing deep, and hunched over with her elbows on her knees. She swallowed hard to keep the nausea at bay, but it was getting more and more difficult to ignore. There had been a wreck, and what started out as a fifteen minute car ride quickly turned into forty-five. She kept her eyes shut tight, willing her stomach to settle.

Gus kept glancing at her nervously. He turned the air conditioner on high and pointed both vents at her. "Almost there," he assured her.

Juliet didn't respond. She was trying to stay as still as possible. They were almost there. "Just two more minutes," she told herself, but her stomach spasmed as they hit a pothole.

"Gus," she said urgently, but Gus was way ahead of her.

"Hold on. I'm pulling over," he said pleadingly. "Do not puke in my car, Juliet."

She barely heard what he was even saying as she fumbled with the door handle. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, she had thrown the door open and stumbled out. She took a few steps away from the car and vomited onto the grass. Her hands shook as they leaned on her knees for support. She gagged again, feeling all the blood run to her cheeks in embarrassment. This was by far the most humiliating day of her entire life. First the mayor, now vomiting on the side of the street with all these cars. She wished she could just wake up and this would all be some sort of pizza induced nightmare.

But it wasn't.

"Are you alright," Gus yelled through the rolled down window. She knew he wouldn't come anywhere near her. He was known for having a weak stomach.

She nodded and spat in the grass, carefully making her way back to the car. She slid inside and shut the door, staring fixedly at her shoes as Gus pulled back onto the road.

Gus seemed to read her mind. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Juliet, he said comfortingly. "We've all been there." When Juliet said nothing, he continued. "Plus, we're family now, so don't worry about it."

Juliet shot him an appreciative, yet tight lipped smile, thankful that he was being so nice, but wishing she was alone, locked in her room right now.

They finally pulled into the driveway and both stepped out of the car. The air felt suffocatingly warm, and for a moment Juliet felt dizzy. She swayed back and forth, holding onto the the car for support.

"Juliet,"Gus said, grabbing her arm, his face full of concern.

"What? I'm fine," she said automatically.

Gus huffed at her. "You almost just fell over. Here, sit back down for a minute."

"Gus, I'm okay," she protested. "I just felt dizzy for a second. I stood up too fast."

He looked at her disapprovingly. "Yeah, well you looked like you almost passed out. Sit."

Juliet sat, grudgingly, too tired to fight with him. When she was finally allowed to stand, they walked side by side up the stairs and into the apartment. Once inside, she turned to thank him for the ride and lock the door behind him, but he was already heading for their fridge.

"I was thinking about staying for a while," he said nonchalantly. "You know. Maybe watch a movie."

Juliet squinted her eyes at him. "Gus, I'm fine," she said exasperatedly. "You don't have to babysit me!"

"I'm not," Gus said, looking offended. "I'm just chilling out at my best friend's house with his sick wife. No biggie."

Juliet rolled her eyes, but smiled appreciatively. "I'm going to try to sleep this off," she said, rubbing her eyes. "There's leftovers in the freezer if you get hungry."

"Mmmm thanks," he replied through a mouthful of sandwich.

Juliet retreated back into her bedroom, racing against her nausea, hoping that she could fall asleep before the cycle started again.

XXX

Shawn dragged his heavy feet up the stairs to their apartment, longing for the sweet embrace of his pillow. He fumbled with the keys in the dark, cursing under his breath as he lost the right one. He finally found it again and slid the door open quietly, not wanting to startle his sleeping Juliet. What he didn't expect was his best friend to be standing directly in front of the door. Shawn stepped into the house, coming within an inch of crashing into Gus. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he flipped on the light, utterly confused.

"Gus?! What the-"

"Where have you been, Shawn," Gus interrupted. "I've been calling you for hours!"

Still confused as to why his best friend was in his house so late, he shook his head and looked at the time on his watch. "My phone died on the water and of course my dad didn't have a charger," he explained. "Gus, buddy, it's almost midnight. What are you even doing here," he asked confusedly.

"Juliet's sick, Shawn. She's been sick for hours and I've been trying to call you, but you didn't answer," Gus said, staring as him with an accusing look.

"What? Jules is sick? What happened? She was fine this morning," he said, setting down his things on the kitchen table.

"Food poisoning. The Chief called me to come pick her up from city hall today when she couldn't get ahold of you," he explained. "She's been puking her guts out all day. I couldn't just leave her."

"Oh my god. Have you checked on her lately," Shawn asked.

Gus clicked his tongue. "I have...from outside the door."

Shawn rolled his eyes and started down the hallway towards the bathroom.

"You know I'm a sympathetic puker, Shawn," Gus yelled after him.

Shawn reached the bathroom door and knocked softly.

"I'm fine, Gus," came the raspy voice from the other side.

"Jules, it's me. Can I come in?"

Silence, followed by the lock clicking open, was the only thing to to be heard in the hall. Shawn gently pushed the door open, taking in the scene as only he could. Juliet was sitting on the floor in one of his old T-shirts and a pair of her favorite shorts, head leaned against the toilet. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and her pale skin shimmered with sweat. She shook from the chills that ran up and down her back. When he shut the door behind him, she smiled up at him, pitifully.

"Oh sweetheart," Shawn whispered, crouching down beside her. "I am so sorry. My phone died. I had no idea you were sick."

Juliet sniffed, fixing her bloodshot eyes directly on his. "I threw up on the side of the street," she squeaked, tears spilling over onto her cheeks.

Shawn scooped her into a hug. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He paused, pushing loose hairs from her eyes and pressing his palm against her sweaty forehead. "Jules, you're burning up."

Juliet sniffed again, tears still coming from her closed eyes, and leaned into his hand. "I have food poisoning," she moaned.

"Yeah, Gus said you were pukey," he whispered.

"I am pukey," she whimpered back.

"Why don't you come get in bed, babe," he asked with a concerned expression.

But Jules shook her head. "No...no I can't. I have to stay here."

"I'll get you a bucket. At least that way you can lie down."

"You don't understand, Shawn," she said seriously. "Puking isn't my only issue right now. I need...a toilet."

Shawn grimaced. "Ohhhh. Yikes," he whispered.

Juliet nodded, looking quite humiliated. "It's going to be a long night," she whispered.

Shawn nodded, and brushed another hair out of her eyes. "I'll be right back," he said, standing. "I'm just gonna tell Gus bye."

Shawn, exhausted from the day's dealings with his father, rubbed his eyes and trudged back down the hallway to the kitchen where Gus was waiting.

"Is she okay," Gus asked as he turned off his movie.

Shawn opened a cabinet over the sink and began to rummage. "She's not great. That's for sure," he said pulling out a bottle of medicine and a thermometer. He opened the fridge door and moved around some leftovers.

"There's no Gatorade," Gus said. "I checked already."

Shawn swore for the second time that night. "Water it is."

Gus watched his friend fill a glass with water. "Do you guys need anything?"

Shawn sighed. "Nah buddy. We're good." He said, patting him on the back as he passed. "We're just going to have to wait this out I think. Thanks for taking care of my girl."

"Anytime," Gus replied, "I'll let myself out."

Shawn heard the door open and close behind him as he picked up his supplies and headed back down the hallway. When he made it back to the bathroom Juliet was on her knees again, leaning over the toilet as she wretched violently. Shawn crouched behind her, rubbing her back gently. Her body trembled as she dry heaved.

"I've never been so sick," she panted, gagging again, "In my life."

"Easy," Shawn soothed. "I got you a present," he said, showing her the glass of water.

Juliet gulped and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

"I don't think it'll stay down," she whispered.

Shawn put the glass in her hand. "Just try. C'mon. Baby sips."

Within the hour, medicine had been administered and the glass of water drained. Juliet was wrapped in a blanket and lying on the cold, bathroom floor, her head in Shawn's lap. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"You can go to bed, Shawn. I'll be okay," came the muffled voice through the blanket.

Shawn shook his head. "Absolutely not. We are in this together. We are lovers in the night and it is nighttime so I love you," he rambled in exhaustion.

"Thank you," she whispered, intertwining their hands as they both drifted off to sleep. "For everything."

"You'll feel better tomorrow," Shawn whispered as his eyes fluttered closed. "Promise."


	2. Bad Choice

Shawn didn't mean to lie, not this time at least. He really did think that she would be better in the morning, and she was...kind of. Her fever had gone down. That was a good sign right? But now they were three days into this thing and Shawn was beginning to get concerned.

Juliet lay on the couch, curled up in a blanket and aimlessly watching TV. Shawn made his way to her carrying a bowl of soup, and she sat up, taking it gratefully.

"Maybe I'll keep this one down," she said, smiling pitifully.

Shawn smiled back, but looked very concerned. Her hands were shaking slightly as she sipped the broth, and she knew that he noticed.

"What is it," she asked anyway.

"You've been sick off and on for days, Jules," he sighed. "Maybe you should go to the doctor just in case."

Juliet was shaking her head before he was even done speaking. "Not yet. You read what it said online. Shellfish food poisoning can take up to five days to get over. There's no sense in dragging myself to the doctor before then."

Shawn stared at her for a few long seconds before moving her hair behind her ears and placing his hand on her forehead. "Your fever's back," he whispered.

Juliet took his hand and held it in her lap. "Shawn," she said, staring directly into his eyes. "I am fine. I feel soooo much better than I did three days ago. And you are going to work on that case with Gus today."

Shawn shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not going to leave you here sick by yourself!"

"And I appreciate you being a good husband and caring about me, but I am fine, Shawn," she interrupted. "I am not going to die in the eight hours that you are out investigating."

Shawn continued to stare at her unblinkingly.

"I promise I will call you. Now stop worrying and go get ready. I told Gus to pick you up in fifteen minutes."

Shawn squeezed her hand and stood up. "You texted Gus before I even said yes?"

"I knew you'd say yes," she smiled. "Now

go get ready. My soup is getting cold."

Twenty minutes later, Shawn had left with Gus for the case, but not without reminding Juliet to check in with him in a few hours. They did their usual day's investigative work, starting with slushees and a little jerk chicken in the middle. They'd been so engrossed in the case that it was well into the afternoon before Shawn realized that Juliet had never called. Something heavy settled in pit of his stomach.

Using Gus' well-timed bathroom break to his advantage, Shawn took out his phone and called his wife.

No answer.

He tried again.

No answer.

He even sent her a text, waiting nervously for the reply, but that never came either. By this time, Gus was back inside the car.

"Who you calling? Did you get something on the case," Gus asked as he put the car in reverse.

"I'm trying to check on Jules," Shawn said, sending another text. "But she's not answering."

"She's probably just sleeping. You said she was still out of it right," Gus asked.

"I know. It's just...not like her." Shawn took out his phone again, this time dialing a new number. It rang for several seconds. "Yeah, Dad? It's me. Can you do me a smallish favor?"

Henry Spencer consented to stop in and check on his daughter-in-law, agreeing that it did seem out of her character not to call.

"I'll tell her to call you when I see her," he'd said, "She's probably fine though, Shawn. Maybe she's finally sleeping."

And Shawn knew that he was probably right. Odds are she had just fallen asleep and forgotten, but he still couldn't shake that feeling in his gut. Another hour went by and honestly Shawn had forgotten all about it now that his dad was involved. They were almost to the parking lot of their Psychphransisco office when Shawn's phone rang again.

"Hello," he said distractedly, as he scanned the case evidence they had managed to "acquire" earlier.

"Shawn, you need to meet us at the ER, right now," came the voice on the other end of the line.

"What? Dad, what's wrong? What happened," Shawn asked as his heart jumped into his throat.

"It's alright. I've got you. Try to take some deep breaths," Shawn heard his father say in the background.

"Dad," Shawn yelled. "Is she alright?"

"I don't have time to explain, Shawn," Henry said, his voice sounding strained. "She can barely walk. Lot of pain. I've got to get her to the truck. Just meet us there."

"Dad," he yelled again, but Henry had already hung up. Shawn swore under his breath, staring blankly at his phone.

Gus was looking at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong," he asked.

"It's Jules," Shawn whispered. "We need to turn around."

XXX

When Shawn and Gus pulled up to the emergency room, Henry was helping Juliet out of the truck.

"Dad," Shawn called, running over to them.

"Take her, Shawn," Henry instructed. "I'm gonna run inside."

Juliet was doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach, and leaning heavily on Henry. Tears dropped from her cheeks as she screwed her eyes together in agony. Shawn took her from his father, who jogged through the sliding glass doors. He swallowed hard, holding her arm tightly as Gus grabbed the other one.

"Jules," he gulped, but he didn't know what else to say. He'd never seen her like this before.

"Something's wrong," she groaned, trembling violently as she doubled over again. She vomited forcefully onto the concrete, swaying dangerously.

"Sweetheart," Shawn tried again as Juliet continued to retch, leaning heavily on his arm. "Can you walk," he asked in a feeble attempt to get her inside.

Nodding sightly, she tried to straighten up and Shawn put an arm around her, half comforting and half supporting her. Gus resumed the position on her other side, looking like he might be sick himself. But they had only taken a few steps towards the door before Juliet clutched her stomach, crying out in pain.

"Almost there, babe," Shawn assured her, still pulling.

But she had stopped in her tracks. "Shawn," she whimpered. "I think I'm gonna pass out."

Shawn, who had been staring determinedly at the glass doors wondering what was taking his father so long, snapped to attention at her words. "Whoa, wait, what," he questioned, turning abruptly to her. He was surprised to see that her face, just flushed with exertion, was now drained of color, leaving her chalk white. Her usually bright eyes were glazed over, accented only by the dark circles under them. She rocked unsteadily, stumbling against Gus in an attempt to regain balance.

"Shawn," he heard someone call. He turned to see his dad and a nurse running to them, a wheelchair in tow and just in time. Juliet was fading quickly.

The next hour flew by in a blur. They had taken Juliet and Shawn straight to a "room" with curtains for walls, and prepped Juliet for a CT scan. The doctor's fears were confirmed. Her appendix had burst. The words emergency surgery rang through Shawn's mind, wrapping themselves around every thought. This can't be happening, not to his Jules.

In a matter of minutes she was gowned and pricked with various IVs. Now, though, for the first time since he had left her that morning, it was just the two of them and everything finally seemed still. Shawn sat beside the bed and held her hand tight, pressing it to his lips every so often. She turned to look at him, her face still pale and sweaty with fever causing her hair to cling to her cheeks. He brushed it away gently for the second time that day.

"I'll be okay," she said softly, with a slight trill in her voice. She stared at him with wide eyes that looked as though they might cry at any second.

"You will be," he said back. Then after a moment, "Plus I have another rickshaw being delivered to the office this weekend and you know I refuse to sign until it's been properly tested by an expert."

She gave him a small smile. "I am an expert."

"Yes you are," he whispered, and she watched as he played with her fingers. "Jules," he finally said, "You know they do these surgeries every day."

She nodded.

"Yours is only an emergency because it's already ruptured. That's...that's the only difference. They're gonna patch you right up."

Juliet nodded, but her eyes were shut tight. Her hands fisted the sheets around her and she groaned.

"What's wrong," he asked urgently. "Is it happening again?"

She cried out in pain. "It's like I'm being stabbed," she moaned.

A nurse in blue scrubs appeared right on queue and fiddled with Juliet's IV. "Alright Mrs. Spencer, I'm here to take you into surgery," she said sweetly. "You'll be asleep any second now, and when you wake up you'll feel good as new okay?"

Juliet nodded quickly, breathing deeply through the pain. She was transferred onto a different bed and two nurses began to wheel her through the door and down the hall. Shawn walked beside them, still gripping his hand tightly.

"I love you," she said squeezing his hand and looking nervous. They were about to cross a threshold where Shawn wasn't allowed.

"I love you," he replied, slowly letting go, and they wheeled her through two heavy doors. "I'll be here when you wake up," he called after her, not knowing that the next moment they would speak was farther away than he thought.


End file.
